


Dancin N Romancin

by poutypanic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Flutt?, LMAO, Mostly Fluff, Mutually Tipsy Sex, This is uhhhhh fluff and sex I suppose, Vaginal, actual dancing lol, smuff?, some light choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:16:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poutypanic/pseuds/poutypanic
Summary: You’re in an established relationship with Hanzo, and tonight you guys are having a date night in! Where you get dressed up, stay in the apartment you share together, and have a date!





	Dancin N Romancin

Hanzo points his spatula at you, narrowing his eyes, “Do not take one more step into this kitchen.”

You stomp your foot, your flowy dress swaying back and forth around your thighs, “I wanna help!”

“You are not allowed in here; you know this.”

“I have grown as a person since the incident.” 

“It has been two days.”

“A person can do a lot of soul-searching in two days.”

He uses the spatula to point to the counter that has stools on the other side, technically out of the kitchen, partially a part of the living room, “Park it.”

You huff, spin around, and march out of the kitchen. Plop down onto one of the stools and start nursing your glass of wine. Every time you happen to catch his gaze, you'll dramatically pout, and Hanzo will give you a different iteration of the word ‘no’ each time. Finally, you just resign to letting your man cook for you, as if that’s so bad.

As Hanzo is setting up the table, placing down hot plates of food with care, and moving your glass of wine for you, you try to get up so you can take a seat at the table. Hanzo stops you. 

“Uh-uh, stay.”

“You’re being a jerk.” 

“Have some patience.”

After the table is set up to Hanzo’s standards, he walks over to you and offers you his arm. You blush. Oh, he was just trying to be a gentleman. You take his arm and let him guide you over to your chair where he pulls it out for you and pushes it back as you sit.

“Thank you. Sorry I called you a jerk just then.”

Hanzo chuckles as he takes his own seat, “How will I ever forgive you?”

As much as Hanzo would love for you to stop trying to do things, you just can’t seem to help yourself. Every time his own cup of sake will start to disappear, you take it upon yourself to top it off.

“What are your motivations? Why are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Well, I was thinking the tipsier he is, the easier I can convince him to teach me that Viennese waltz you were going on about the other night.” 

“Beloved, all you had to do was ask.” 

Contrary to popular belief, Hanzo can dance. And he’d be delighted to dance with you. As long as it’s a classical partner dance, that is. The kind of dance that has rules, meaning, and history. You won’t see him busting a move freestyle. No matter how much you beg or how drunk you try and get him. Regardless, you’re happy to do just about anything with him that’ll get him talking, close to you, and having a good time.

You stand in front of him with your hands on his waist, as he is trying to tell you that that’s not where they go.

“Okay, then. Where do they go, Handsome?”

Hanzo lifts up his right arm and holds it at a ninety-degree angle, while he holds his other arm straight out and to the side.

“Just like this; this is called the natural box.”

You copy his stance, but you also giggle.

Hanzo cracks a tiny amused smile, “Be mature.” 

He then tells you  that you need to start with your left foot back and right foot forward. You hear him wrong, or perhaps you heard him right, and the two glasses of wine you had are taking their toll. But what happens is you put your left foot forward, as he's putting his right foot forward. Consequentially, you end up kicking him in the shin. Hanzo grunts and lets his arms drop down to his sides. He hangs his head and shakes it from side to side.

You wheeze laugh, “Oh my God, I am so sorry babe!” 

He looks at you. His bottom lip between his teeth. Trying not to laugh.

He says in a calm and sturdy tone, “Left. Foot back. Right. Foot forward.”

You fall forward and give him a 'sorry' hug. 

“I know! I heard you; I’m just a bit stupid right now.”

He knows you don’t mean it. That you’re only joking. But he still doesn’t like it went you call yourself derogatory things. Hanzo sighs, hugs you back and kisses your forehead, “Do not call yourself stupid.”

“What else do you call a person who don’t know right from left?”

“Inebriated.” 

You roll your eyes.  He's so literal. As you pull away from him, you make sure to run your hands over his powerful shoulders to his tapered hips. He closes his eyes as the sensation makes him shudder. You get rid of the smug look on your face before he opens his eyes and sees it.

“Fine. Fine.”

You take extra special caution throwing your hands back up. Focus on placing your feet where they are supposed to be. Hanzo thinks that's endearing, the way you’ve started to concentrate. He watches as your nose crinkles, and your lips purse. You silently scold yourself for not putting the right arm up. When you’re satisfied that your limbs are where they’re supposed to be you look up at him. Eyes brimming with light and love, patiently waiting for him to give you more instructions. Lovely.

The way Hanzo does everything with elegance and simplicity always makes your stomach flutter. Before Hanzo puts his hands back up, he places his pointer finger against your jaw line and gently angles your head off to the right side. Then he places it just under your jaw, so he can lift your head to a slight upturn. Lastly, he lightly places three fingers against your chest and pushes ’til you're leaning back a few inches. All while not saying a word, with half-lidded amber eyes that bear the weight of all of his emotions.

_ Phew. _

“This is the proper stance to keep."

“The whole time!”

“Yes, the whole time.”

You whine, “But I wanna look at your charming face.” 

Hanzo chuckles and takes your right hand in his left.

“Such flattery; let’s make a deal.”

You shimmy your shoulders, “Oooh, I love making deals.”

“Do the proper technique for me. For at least a couple of steps. And then after that, we will,” he pauses to sigh, “improvise.”

You say with a wide spread grin, "Okay, you got it!”

Hanzo gives you a succession of numbers to follow. But at some point, they end up out of order, and they repeat themselves too much for you to be able to concentrate and really follow them. Despite the numbers not doing a thing for your rhythm or pace, after a few failed tries you still manage to give Hanzo what he wants. Three flowing Viennese waltz turns. For a moment you feel like a princess, being whimsically courted at a ball.

It’s partially because you were so excited about this, that you lose the flow. As you guys go for the fourth turn, you trip over his feet. It’s a pretty severe stumble, but Hanzo doesn't let you fall. He catches you around the waist, using this moment to dip you. Kisses you lightly on your lips. A pleasant warm fuss settles over your chest. It’s so like him to turn your clumsy moments into elegant romantic ones.

Then he pulls you close, so you're flush with his body. You nuzzle your face into his neck and wrap your arms around his waist. You let your body relax, melt into him. Let him support your weight with his arms enveloping your waist. They’re a little low, maybe not low enough for how your mood is starting to turn.

He sways you back and forth. Hums a tune. It sounds familiar, but you can’t quite make out what it is. But it sounds nice with his cheek pressed against your temple. The vibrations in his chest are soothing. Rich tones make your head tingle and send shivers down your spine.

Hanzo’s heartbeat is strong and steady. Makes you feel like you’re right at home. It thumps against your chest. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Smooth and consistent. You wonder if your own heart beat is as comforting. You take in a deep breath through your nose, taking in his familiar scent, and exhale into his neck.  _Lub-dub,_ _lub-dub,_ _lub-dub._

**** You smile and tease, “It’s so easy to excite you.”

His hand travels down, grabbing as much of your backside as he can, “Yes, well, you know how to.”

And he knows how to do the same.

He keeps his hold as he smoothly spins you around. Pulsates his grip and slowly starts to pull up your dress. He traces his fingers along the lace of your thong. You kick off your heels and start to unbutton his dress shirt. Place a kiss for every one that you get unfastened. Hanzo fluidly slips his other hand under your chin. Feverishly presses his lips to yours and heavily leans into you. You momentarily forgo the buttons, so you can cup his face. You rub your thumbs along his cheekbones and graze your fingertips against those graying dignified winged sections of hair that you adore so much.

Hanzo starts to wedge his hand between your cheeks. Grinds his hips against yours. His fingers graze against your sex. Rubs and produces waves of heat. The feeling flowers up into your belly, travels into your chest,  and continues into your arms, ’til you’ve got the warm fuzzies all over.

Hanzo angles your head back, so he can get at your neck. Your body feels like liquid. Like you might just slip out of his grasp. He runs his tongue from clavicle to jaw line. Picks a spot on your neck to focus on. Takes skin into his mouth, suckles, and nibbles. You run your fingers through his hair and slowly drag them across his scalp. Carefully remove the hair tie that holds it back and let it fall to the ground. Bound to get lost and never seen again.

His shirt never will never fully get unbuttoned. But it’s not terribly important that it does. What you're after now is his pants. You shove both of your arms between the two of you. Grab a hold of his crotch and knead. A couple of his fingers find their way inside of you. Shallow, he works them in and out in calm waves. Hanzo’s finally had enough of his chosen spot on your neck. He moves to the other side. Gets to work leaving another mark.

“Beloved, nothing compares to the taste of you.” 

You grin and giggle like an idiot at the praise as you get his belt undone, yank it out of the loops with a _fwip,_ and discard it to the ground to join the hair tie.  The rest is child’s play. You drag your tongue along your palm before gripping his cock. You apply heavy pressure and stroke, long and leisurely.

Hanzo relinquishes his hold on your neck. Presses his face against yours and expels harsh breathes into your ear.

“Hanzo…”

“Mmmm?”

“Make love to me.” 

You can feel him smile, “It would be my pleasure.”

Hanzo hoists you up, and you wrap your legs tightly around his waist. He carries you over to the wall, gently leans you up against it. Tugs at the tassels on the bust of your dress. They easily unravel, and the chiffon fabric falls apart from each other. His eyes fixate on your chest as it heaves. He pulls at the criss-cross of strings that run down to your navel, and they come completely undone. Revealing the mounds of your breasts being cupped by one of your nicest bras. 

He gingerly hooks his fingers into the hems of each cup and slowly pulls them down. Watching as your breasts fall out and bounce. He cocks his head to the side, drinking them in. Hanzo looks at you as he gradually leans in, letting his tongue roll out of his mouth, flicking the tip of it against your nipple. God, it’s so like him to bring you to a heightened edge, only to slow you down before he brings you back again. Such a damn tease.

Hanzo gyrates his hips against yours. His cock glides against your mound. Briefly will rub against your clit. You take fistfuls of his shirt, lean your head back against the wall, and grit your teeth. You’re starting to ache, a deep throbbing settling within your walls. You lift your hips up off the wall, desperately trying to get more friction.

“Oh, baby, please… I need you…”

He doesn't ignore you, but he doesn't give in to your pleading. Instead, he wraps his fingers around your jaw. Pushes his thumb into your mouth. Lets you whine and suck on it, while he continues to indulge in your breasts.  You rake your teeth across his thumb. Hanzo responds by swiftly taking your hair into his fist and tugs back on it. 

Hanzo’s hips are so close to yours, and he’s grinding against you so harshly, that he accidentally enters you.  You both gasp. Bodies shake from the sudden onslaught of warm satisfaction. Hanzo is momentarily brain dead. Eyes shut, rubbing his face against your collar bone. He was planning on getting you warmed up a bit more, only letting you have once you were right on the boiling point. But, ah, oh well. 

He starts to get his brain function back. Is about to ask you if that hurt, when you slam your hips down, taking the rest of him in. No, definitely not something he needs to worry about. He should have already known when he can feel how sopping wet you are. But alas, even a man like him can be struck dumb by the feeling of your welcoming tight, pulsating walls. 

Hanzo looks down and isn’t happy with how much your clothes are blocking his view. He wants to watch as he pumps himself in and out of you.  So he makes quick work of your dress. Yanks it up and over your head and tosses it behind him. He wraps one arm around your waist, placing his hand against the small of your back. Removes the other hand from your hair, slides it down your face, and lightly wraps his fingers around your neck.

You strap yourself in, dig your heels into his back, and hang onto his arm. Hands looking small and fragile up against the muscle they are clinging onto. Just because he's inside of you doesn't mean he can’t still tease you. He’s torn between keeping his eyes on your crotch as he slowly drags his cock out of you and watching your face scrunch up with pleasurable agony at his pace. He pulls back, just barely letting the head rest inside of you, before he lets his hips fall forward ’til he’s fully sheathed again. 

His grip on your neck tightens, and his body shudders with his own need to up the pace tenfold.

“Why are you torturing yourself?” You whine, “Fuck me, Hanzo.”

Hanzo looks up at you through gorgeous eyelashes, with a wicked grin on his face.

“You are so beautiful when you beg; do it one more time.”

You make it really good for him. You pout and put on your version of bedroom puppy dog eyes. The leverage he has against your back doesn't allow for much wiggle room, but you try your best to roll your hips anyway. You purposefully clench down around him before you speak, so you can see his steady gaze falter.

“Can’t you feel how much I need you… you did this to me; don’t you wanna take care of your woman…please, just… give it to me…” 

As you’re about to continue, Hanzo swiftly pulls back and slams into you. That elicits a very loud, “Ah!” from you. Followed by several more as he starts fucking you. For a man who loves the visual of fucking you, he sure does end up with his eyes closed a lot.  And you end up staring at him, watching him as he’s blissfully working himself in and out of you, mouth slightly agape, cheeks flushed, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You love to watch him be in control, while melting and falling apart at the same time.

When Hanzo speaks he sounds weak, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Oh, yes.” 

All of the pressure and warmth is starting to come to a peak. But before it goes over the brink, Hanzo looks at you and demands, “Touch yourself.”

You pry one of your hands off of his arm and throw it down, so you can rub circles on your clit. Hanzo watches and keeps up the pace. His chest may not be completely bared, but you can still see his breath becoming labored and shaky. It doesn't take much more for you to come, and when you start to, so does Hanzo. His grip on your neck becomes so tight that it makes for an exhilarating orgasm. How good it feels to come, the pressure, and the lightheadedness makes your climax euphoric.

Hanzo brings you close, wraps his arms around your body, and takes you down to the ground with him. Continues to shower you with kisses. Hums into your ear and throws his leg around your hip, locking you into a cuddle. You throw your arms around his neck, giving him kisses in return when you can manage.

“Ah, you make me feel so good; do I make you feel good, beloved?”

You playfully hit him on the back, “You know you do.”

“Yes, but I love to hear it.”

“Egomaniac.” 


End file.
